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My whole body aches. I want to crawl into bed, bury myself in a pile of blankets, and not come out until my heart has healed. But I already know that isn’t possible because I don’t own my heart anymore. Aiden does.
My voice shakes when I say, “I need to go.”
“No, Lizzie, please don’t. Stay so we can talk this out.”
“Please.” I place a hand over Aiden’s heart. “Please give me time to process all of this.”
After a few moments, he nods. “Okay. But I’m not leaving you. You wrote in your blog that you’ve loved me since you were six, and you’re not letting me go. Well, I’m not letting you go either.”
I hate that he’s using my own words against me. “I was six. I had no idea what love was. I’m still not sure I do.”
I stumble out of his apartment and force myself to keep it together until I get home. As soon as my foot hits the threshold, I fall to the couch and sob.
My phone rang off the hook for the first three days after my fight with Aiden. It tapered off on day four. Today is day seven, and he hasn’t called or texted once, and I’m not sure what to think about that. I can’t blame him. He tried, and I ignored him at every turn. I have fifteen voicemails I haven’t listened to, and thirty-seven texts—most of which are him begging me to forgive him. He doesn’t need to beg. I forgave him about twenty minutes after I left his apartment the other day, and the only reason I’ve been ignoring him since then is because I don’t know what to say. I’m stubborn to a fault, and I can admit that I overreacted when it came to the blog. That’s not the part that upsets me. Not really, anyways. I’m more upset that he waited so long to tell me about the job offer. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am because that’s who we are. We tell each other everything.
But not this. He kept that from me.
I sniff and reach for another Kleenex. There’s a soft knock on my door, but I ignore it and wipe my tears.
“Lizzie Donovan, you open this door right now, young lady.”
Shit. I’ve been ignoring Edna, too.
“I know you’re in there. We share a wall, remember?”
I close my eyes and try to stay quiet. She’ll go away eventually, just like Aiden did.
“Oh, shit.” There’s a loud thud followed by a grunt. “Lizzie, call 911.”
“Edna?” I race across the room and yank the door open, expecting to see her on the floor or clutching her chest. She’s doing neither.
Edna smiles and nudges her way into my apartment.
“You’re evil.” I give her the stink-eye. “That’s the most horrible thing anyone has ever done to me.”
“It got you to open the door, didn’t it?”
“I’m still mad at you,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I know.” Edna frowns and sits on my couch. “Aiden told me. He also told me that you’re mad at him, but let’s talk about me first. I hate that you’re mad at me.”
Damn the old bat for breaking through my wall so quickly. “I’m not mad. I’m hurt.”
“That’s worse.”
“No, what’s worse is me finding out from Aiden that you’re moving into an assisted living facility. Besides Aiden, you’re my best friend. You said that I’m like a granddaughter to you, yet you picked out a place, made a down payment, signed a contract, and had someone else tell me that you’re leaving.”
Ah, shit. She’s g
oing to cry. I’m such a bitch.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You are like a granddaughter to me, and I should’ve come to you right away. But I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.”
I think about it for a second and nod. “I would’ve tried to talk you out of it.”
Edna laughs and pats the couch beside her. “I know you would’ve, sweetie, and I love you for it, but I needed to make the decision on my own. But, in all transparency, I also made it with you and Aiden in mind.”
Wanting to hear more, and needing to be closer to Edna, I move across the room and sit beside her.
